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IDAS AND MARPESSA 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 

An Idyll of Constancy 



BY 
HOWARD V. SUTHERLAND 

Author of " Idylls of Greece " 



A little while and we Bhall be as these 
Whose sighs dieturb'd Jane's starry silences. 






Desmond FitzGerald, Inc. 

New York 

1912 



Copyright 1912 by 
Desmond FitzGerald, Inc. 






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gCl.A300639 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



1^ 



N echo this of an immortal tale 
Of woman's love, with all its constancy. 
Idas, the friend of Jason, found at last 
In fair Marpessa peace, as most men find, 
Or soon or late, serene companionship 
In one whose lips hint more than may be told. 
For woman's love, since erst the world began, 
Is oft unuttered; but like yonder blue 
That swathes the rugged tops of solemn hills, 
Proclaims itself by silence, by a glance 
That lies like benediction on the soul. 
The melody unheard, the airy song 
Suggested by the silence, and the peace 
Behind the moveless azure — these suggest 
The love that bides behind a woman's lips. 
For even when those lips proclaim their love. 
And when her eyes shine promise, of her soul 
Her love is silent fragrance, as its scent 
The soul is of the love-desiring rose. 
In olden days the tellers of these tales, 
Who wove their fancies from the glinting webs 
The gods blew earthward, or of memories 

[3] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



Robb'd the hush'd Past, have told how Idas won 
The daughter of Evenus, racing him 
With hot-soled feet ; and how he conquer'd him ; 
And how the hoary runner plunged to death 
Within the waters that assumed his name 
And hid his body. But the victor claim'd 
Her hand as prize and led her, happy-eyed. 
From harsh ^tolia where her grace was lost 
To his bright valleys in Messenia. 
And she, Marpessa, in her husband found 
Her girlhood's dream, and was most satisfied 
To worship and be worship'd. In the dawn 
She rose betimes to see him seek the woods 
Before the deer were stirring; long ere noon, 
Her household duties over, for her lord 
She watch'd without the bronzen latticed gates 
To lead him to their palace ; and when came 
The softly-breathing Night with eyes of dream, 
She raised her lips to him so brave and clean, 
Who faced the stars as he had faced the sea. 
Now, thinking back, it seems that in their woods 
My lonely spirit saw them ; hand in hand. 
Serene in silence, or with burning lips 
Vowing their hearts' indifference to time, 
Their love and their eternal constancy. 
Youth's roses had departed from her cheeks ; 
His locks were not so brown as when the waves 
Flung their pure mist upon them; yet the gods 
[4] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



Still number'd them with lovely things, with all 
That laugh'd and look'd not backward, nor 

surmised 
The night behind the promise of the day. 
And deeming each the other beautiful 
They both were young; for Age no finger lays 
On her who 's loved ; and he whose lips receive 
A heart's impassion'd murmurs, fears no more 
The whisper'd warning from the lips of Death. 
And even now she bade him weave for her 
In such embroidery as color'd words 
Can hang upon the silence, all the tale 
Of Jason and his heroes ; how the sea 
Curl'd angrily around them, while the wind 
Shrill'd through its teeth its heritage of hate ; 
He told her of the heroes ; and at last 
Of dark Medea, who had charm'd his lord, 
Or so the heroes said, and married him. 
And then he told her how the land was full 
Of awful mutterings of unseen mouths 
That said her hands were bloody. Thus he told 
The day's new gossip much as we to-day 
May gossip in the twilight. Now, as then, 
The idlest tale, if one but whisper it. 
Finds ears to give it welcome ; now, as then, 
The wind is bearer of the distant deed 
And Truth is ever that which is untold. 

[5] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



And when she spoke it was of other things 
That dearer seem'd to him than tales of war. 
For she a woman was, and dream'd again 
Of that first night when o'er her blessed hand 
He bent and said he loved and worship'd her. 
That eve they linger'd by a marble fane 
Whose stilly whiteness fill'd their hearts with 

peace, 
And watch'd the dusk spread purple coverlets 
Upon the mountains' summits. On the woods 
Lay darker mantles, and the vales were black 
With sleep that woo'd the cattle and the flowers. 
They spoke no word, but watch'd with wonder- 
ment 
The many changes, knowing they were one 
With hills and trees and all that graced the 

vales. 
Then, in her father's garden, he and she 
That summer's night had wander'd. Far away 
The heavy hills now slumber'd ; in the skies 
The stars were gather'd, moving solemnly 
Their order'd ways, expectant of the moon. 
And now was heard the twitter of a bird, 
And then a cricket's protest, else so still 
The air about them that he caught the wind's 
Soft whisper in her tresses ; and the while 
She look'd away, his love o'erpower'd him 
And he had touch'd those tresses with his lips. 

[6] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



But she was dreaming then of — Ah! who knows? 
Perhaps of him. Perhaps unknown to him 
She sensed his adoration, as the flower 
May sense at noon the pity of the dusk. 
Perhaps, although she never felt that kiss, 
Night's stilly voices whisper'd : " Thou art 

loved!"; 
Perhaps the stars proclaim'd it, or the wind. 
The hopeless wind, whose love is long lament. 
Perhaps she thought of whispers and of sighs. 
Of cool-cheek'd roses brought on golden moms 
With silv'ry words of greeting. Ah! who 

knows ? 
And wand'ring home beneath the risen moon 
She lean'd to him a little, and his arm 
Had almost dared to hold her prisoner. 
But when at last they reach'd the shadow'd 

porch, 
By scented creepers shelter'd from the world, 
Again love master'd him and, ere she knew, 
His lips had seal'd his secret on her hands. 
And though his eyes were hidden now from her, 
And though his voice was silent, she was 'ware 
That this no passion was, no youthful heat 
To pass ere morning with the icy moon 
And all her chaste attendants. This was love, 
That grows in silence, love that worship is ; 
Whose constant flame bums constantly above 

[7] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



Life's grey illusion, and essays to light 

The hopeless highways through the realms of 

Death. 
And then with face uplifted, that his eyes 
Might seek her own eyes' solace, he had told 
His love for her, and how, as in a net 
The tangled bird may flutter, now his heart 
Was caught for ever by that guileless charm 
With which the gods had graced her. He was 

one 
Who lived for action ; and his speech was bare 
As winter's dreamless branches ; but a sheen 
Encircled him that evening, and his words 
Seem'd golden like the heart-song of a bird 
That sings its joyous message in the sun. 
And he had won her, though the moon was gone 
Before, all lily-like, she droop'd to him 
And kiss'd his forehead, saying she was his ; 
And kiss'd again, as if she knew that now 
The gods would eye them through unkindly lids 
And wreck the flimsy fabric of their dream. 
For they that sit in judgment love us not 
Who dwell in Time, imprison'd, till we seek 
The silence and the shadow. From their seats 
They watch our vain endeavor, hear our sighs, 
And note the eager groping of our hands 
To hands that tremble uswards ; through the 

dusk 

[8] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



Our whispers rise and vanish, and they hear, 
And hollow laughter thins the lips of them. 
For human loves are holy; our desire 
Outflames their awful splendor ; and although 
They scorn us, who are hostages of Death, 
They envy us, and hate us for our dreams. 

And so the while they linger'd in the woods, 

And Idas bade her whisper, to her love 

Marpessa told that story. And it seem'd 

Each time he heard it, it was ever new, 

Or, like a jewel held against the sun, 

Took unknown beauties to it. Through the 

trees 
Serenity beheld them, marvelling, 
As Nature ever marvels at the fair. 
At so much happiness in two so fond. 
In two so pure and perfect. To the trees 
They seem'd akin, and to the wind-swept hills 
Array'd in joyous colors; to the birds. 
Singing from hearts so cramm'd with happiness 
They never can outpour it, they were things 
Half unsubstantial, with the tiny blooms 
That smiled their stilly message of delight. 
And when her voice was silent, and the tale 
Was ended, he would question : " Even now 
I know not how I won thee, I, whose arms 

[9] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



Have fear'd to clasp thy beauty." And she 

smiled 
And bade him wonder. " While I live," she 

said, 
" My love must needs be silent. When I die 
I'll whisper thee its secret, and thy heart 
Shall strain against the barriers of death 
To bring me solace." And he bent to her, 
And said : " I love thee, and would e'er abide 
Within the folded pinions of thy soul. 
At peace and happy. If thou venturest 
Where ghosts await us ere I go with thee, 
Thy love shall draw me thither; should I go, 
I'll wait thy boat's still beaching, and assuage 
Thy murmurs with the welcome of mine eyes." 
" My love thou art," she whisper'd. " I am 

thine. 
Our day is at its morning; music fills 
Our happy hearts as now the air is fill'd 
With yon gay bird's impassion'd melody. 
The noon shall follow with its sense of peace, 
Then blessed evening with its memories 
And all the sweet companionship of stars. 
I gaze untroubled down the aisle of Time, 
Because thy love shall guard me." Then he 

kiss'd 
The hand that touch'd ail-tenderly his hair. 
" I only know I love thee," he replied. 
[10] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



" Thy words are music ; let my silence be 
The air that would contain them. Hark! a 

bird 
Has pity on my dumbness, and to thee 
Would sing the benediction in my heart." 
And then they listen'd, and the woods became 
Their temple, and the bird its feather'd priest 
Whose wholesome adoration pleased the gods. 
Then Idas press'd his dear one close to him. 
" It loves," he said. " It loves, and therefore 

sings. 
But though I love, my worship must be mute, 
My fond Marpessa, my beloved wife." 
And then, perhaps, she raised to his her lips 
And saw, with closed eyes, the olden dream 
In all its purity. Oh ! never say 
That love is aught but holy. From the dark 
We journey to the darkness; love, the while, 
Enswathes us in its utter spotlessness 
And makes of poor, imperfect instruments 
Things worth the What's-to-f ollow. Love is all. 

For two swift years the gods look'd carelessly 
On Idas and Marpessa. There were wars 
'Twixt god and god, intrigues and jealousies 
To hold their bright attention ; otherwheres 
Kings robed in purple, wearing crowns of gold, 
Look'd at the stars perhaps too haughtily, 

[11] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



Or plann'd To-morrow's conquest ; them the 

gods 
Smote silently and swiftly, laughing long 
To see the pomp that follow'd them to death, 
As if they thought their banners or their plumes 
Might alter Death's enorme solemnity, 
Or hint : These once were kings. For two swift 

years 
Those lovers, now long silent, dream'd their 

dreams. 
They laugh'd together in the morning's cool 
And raised their babes. And then the gods 

look'd down 
And saw their fondness, and an arch'd surprise 
Above their heavy eyes bode ill to them. 



m 



S when great birds, white-plumaged, in 

the foam 
Of untrack'd seas from drowsiness 
awake. 
And make the bright air brighter with the flash 
Of light-tipp'd wings, so now the shining 

heavens 
Wherein the gods gleam'd idly, seem'd awake 
As, one by splendid one, they roused themselves. 
[12] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



Then moved among them a dehghtful boy, 
The star-eyed Ganymedes, loved of Zeus, 
Whose rounded limbs the winds kiss'd joyously 
The while he slumber'd ; in his hand he bore 
A crystal goblet topp'd with fragrant foam, 
And touch'd each snowy shoulder. And the 

gods 
Were glad to see his pretty artlessness 
So drank and laugh'd, and, laughing, drank 

again. 
And then on golden platters, finely wrought, 
Most rich in pictures of heroic deeds 
And loves now sung by singers and the stars, 
The curl-brow'd boy to each reclining god 
Took honey-sweet ambrosia, and they ate, 
And thus renew'd their youth. And being fiU'd 
They look'd again to where the fair earth 

gleam'd 
As gleams a crystal river when the sun 
Pours its hot love upon it. Saying naught 
They gazed thereon in silence, much as we 
May watch the thing from which still Beauty's 

breath 
Has blown the grossness, idly wondering 
Why Zeus had made a toy so beautiful. 
Swiftly they saw with their all-seeing eyes 
The mountains' majesty, the charm of vales, 
The drowsy forest's beauty; from the woods 
[13] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



Their gaze turn'd slowly to the silv'ry streams 
That wound through gay and flower-enamell'd 

meads 
And laugh'd while Death allur'd them to the sea. 
They saw the city with its hordes of men 
As blind and selfish as their sons to-day ; 
Amassing wealth beyond the needs of them, 
Disputing vainly in their ignorance 
Of things as far beyond them as the stars. 
They laugh'd to see the soldier's martial stride, 
The condescension of the sated lord, 
Who smiled on worth and frown'd on poverty 
While Death stood silently beside his seat 
And eyed him with grave patience. In their 

hearts 
They mock'd man's pride, and wish'd him bitter- 
ness. 
They saw the hardy peasant at his task 
Behind his straining oxen ; on the hills 
The piping boy with brown'd and sturdy limbs 
Beside his sheep ; and where the rocking sea 
Responded to the wooing of the sun, 
And gleam'd its pleasure, bearded fishermen 
Whose eyes roved landward where their loved 

ones were. 
They saw the priests perform the sacrifice 
On ancient altars hewn from gleaming stone, 
[14] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



While white-robed vestals watch'd the sacred 

flames 
And sang the solemn paeans ; in the fields 
They saw the women bent above the grapes. 
The tranquil kine amused them, for they thought 
Of restless lo's heavy punishment; 
And when a deer would raise its antler'd head, 
Or the meek rabbit signal its affright 
With lifted ears alert to every sound. 
Their bright eyes widen'd as they hoped to see 
A shepherd's wooing of a willing nymph. 
And loud they laugh'd to hear what vows he 

made 
Of lasting faith, or swore to cherish her 
Despite her fault ; for well the wise gods knew 
The bees are fond while flowers are yet to 

win. 
But soon forget the flower that is despoil'd. 

Apart from all the rest, Apollo sat, 
But eyed the earth as idly. In his hair 
Such glory linger'd that his face was bright 
As is the sun itself, and yet his eyes 
Were blacker than the gloom of wintry skies 
Ere stars adventure from their hiding place. 
One hand lay heavy on his marbled knee 
As, forward bent, his gaze pierced fearlessly 
The gulfs of blue ; the other held the lyre 
[15] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



With which at times he charm'd his grave com- 
peers 
By dream-evoking music, strains as sad 
As Day's bright scorn or Night's sweet con- 
stancy. 
But now, though Zeus oft eyed him lovingly 
As if in supplication, at his side 
The lyre was mute ; for where the trees enclosed 
A moveless pool on that revolving sphere 
Where dreams are born that Fate may mock at 

them, 
He saw — Marpessa. And the joy in him 
Became extinguish'd like a blown out light 
Because, ail-suddenly, he longed for her, 
Who seemed a thing of whitest ivory 
Within an em'rald casket; like a flame 
His joy leap'd up and suddenly went out 
And left his huge heart empty, as to-day 
Our little joy as suddenly is gone 
As is the fragrance of the fated rose. 
But heedless of the ever-burning gaze 
That flamed above her movements, in the pool 
Marpessa bathed, her black hair having bound 
About her brows ail-tightly. By the reeds 
Her garments lay, and though they snowy were 
Yet she was whiter, for her purity 
Herself was, as its pallor is the moon, 
And though a wife yet was she innocent. 
[16] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



The pretty deer, with large and lustrous eyes 
And hesitating hoofs, came from the trees 
And nosed the glinting water, eyeing her 
As though she were a thing of woods and hills, 
A thing that knew and loved them ; and anon. 
When they had sensed the lovehness of her 
And sipp'd their fill, they turn'd their heads 

from her 
And shyly sought the forest's shade again. 
The birds, attired in brilliant liveries, 
Consider'd her a sister, look'd at her. 
And sang while looking ; then, with wetted wings. 
Flew to their mates and woke the scented 

peace 
With twitter'd gossip, till these others sought 
The little pool that held the wonder-one. 
Then, as he gazed, their swiftly-moving wings 
Seem'd brighter to Apollo than the skies 
When sunset tints them ; and he envied them 
Their fondness for Marpessa. From his seat 
He tower'd suddenly, as does the flame 
The winds have tortured; and had sought her 

then, 
While yet his heart's Titanic hammering 
Paled his bright face. But Zeus, the Father, 

call'd. 
And set him to a task that hinder'd him. 
[17] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



And once again, that same task being done, 
He peer'd from out the shelter of a cloud 
And saw Marpessa. It was even now, 
And they that mock the destinies of men 
Sat solemnly together, knee by knee, 
Beneath grave Zeus and his all- jealous spouse. 
And while they whisper'd of the day to come 
The sad-eyed Dusk, with dreams in either hand, 
Stepp'd from their midst and sought the weary 

earth. 
Before the gentle sorrow of her face 
The light withdrew, to men whom Sleep still 

bless'd 
Bearing the day's illusion, and the hope 
For that which, being granted, proves but vain. 
And while he gazed upon the half-hush'd woods, 
Where now the trees in blessed stilliness 
Exhaled their souls, all-grateful for the day, 
From out their gardens to the greater peace 
Marpessa came, and Idas. Lover-like, 
His arm was still about her; and again 
He charm'd her with the story of their love 
In days that now seem'd days of golden dream. 
And though so oft the story he had told. 
Yet seem'd it ever new. In wonderment 
She walk'd beside him, raising trustingly 
Her eyes to his when he a deed recall'd 
That brought the Past back, and its memories. 
[18] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



Above their heads, where arched the heavy 

boughs, 
The birds cheep'd faintly, knowing that the 

night 
Was drawing nigh, and soon the hateful owl 
Would hoot its feud against all feather'd things 
And furry creatures, while the heartless moon 
Cross'd regally the heavens. Amid the leaves 
In blest security they hid their heads 
Beneath their wings, and then the woods were 

still 
As if with expectation. And the while 
The darkness thicken'd, by a well-known path 
The lovers sought a bower beloved of them. 
And whisper'd there, as if the birds might hear. 
About their love that still so wondrous seem'd. 
Forgetting naught they lived their dream 

again — 
Their first sweet stammer'd vows ; her first shy 

kiss 
When, so it seem'd, the gods had tum'd aside 
In envy of a girl's pure tenderness ; 
The silence that was music ; and the calm 
That slowly flamed to passion — ^Ah ! if thou 
Whose lids now droop above this halting line 
Hast loved as they loved, but thy mem'ry paint 
That perfect picture for thee. Having loved 
Thou knowest all things perfect; one thou art 
[19] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



With Idas or Marpessa. Kingdoms change, 
Stars wane and mountains vanish ; love alone 
Remains To-day what Yesterday it was, 
And makes us kin to all that 's tum'd to dust. 

And while the Night enswathed the sleeping 

earth. 
Asserting its dominion over men 
Whose hearts were joyous, men whose hearts 

were sad. 
Where dream'd the gods, the ever-deathless ones. 
It darken'd too. Each splendid star now faced 
Its sister orb in silv'ry sympathy 
And left the high air widow'd ; but there glow'd. 
Where sat the gods, a steely after light 
In luminous suggestion, such as woos 
The crystal fringes of the rolling sphere 
Where white-furr'd bear tread heavily the snow. 
The winds stroked rhymeless music from their 

harps, 
Intoning solemnly their airy chant 
In praise of Zeus. " Supremest! Thunderer! 
Whose glance is as the lightning; thou whose 

breath 
Titanic cedars bends submissively. 
Heaps sea on sea, extinguishes the stars ! 
Gather'd from far we kneel and worship thee 
In wild, unfetter'd music. We have seen 
[20] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



Man's pitiful endeavors, deeds and dreams 
Beneath thy notice. Death makes mock of 

them, 
Whose little life is spent ere thou and thine 
Are conscious of their being. Thee we praise, 
Who art alone enduring; by whose will 
We wake from nothing, by whose will we die." 
But Zeus, with sad impenetrable eyes, 
Gazed into space, well-knowing that at last 
Creator and created are as one — 
Are doom'd as is the sunset's holy glow, 
Are vain as are the hopes of yesterday. 
And then the gods that sat at Zeus's feet 
With half-hush'd voices answer'd : " Thou art he 
Whose eyes have dream'd all things of conse- 
quence. 
Before it came, thou knewest of To-day 
And Destiny's decrees. We bend to thee 
Who art the Father." And again the winds 
Intoned their praise : " Thou only can'st out- 
stare 
The eyes of Time. Death lays no hands on 

thee; 
But crams his grey and echoless abode 
With all that thou createst. Thou art he 
To whom they wildly clamor ere they tread 
The way that leads to silence and despair." 
Then once again the gods' deep murmurs voiced 
[21] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



Their answ'ring adoration; but the eyes 
Of Zeus were fix'd and moody. So the rock, 
Unmindful of the passion of the sea, 
Awaits its end ; it scorns the sun's caress. 
The wind's advances and the lightning's hate. 

And now the heights were silent. Cloud on 

cloud. 
With fleecy shoulders leaning each to each, 
Took for the night their stations, while the winds 
Remain'd without and roam'd, disconsolate. 
The starry highways. One by splendid one 
The gods lay down to wait Aurora's call 
To see the dawnburst, note with ecstasy 
The modest flower's unfolding, and delight 
In that first note with which the happy bird 
Heralds the day and all its promises. 
Austerely silent, at the feet of Zeus 
They fell asleep, or gazed through half-closed 

. eyes 
Upon the face that tower'd over them. 
And once again, like huge and brooding birds. 
The watchers of the tragedies of men 
Lay couch'd amid the cloud-mass stillily ; 
Prepared to dream of flights against the sun. 
Enormous circlings to the pleasant earth 
Or swift descents through endless gulfs of space. 
But one was wakeful, one who lay apart 
[22] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



And strove to pierce with melancholy gaze 
The moveless clouds — ^Apollo. At his side 
His lyre still idle lay. No breathless tones 
Lured fancies to the eyes of them that slept, 
Or woke the others' musings. By himself 
He lay and suffer'd, anxious for the dawn 
That he might see Marpessa, and, ere night, 
Win her from Idas and the things she loved. 

* 

HE morning dawn'd, a morn of joyous- 
ness. 
Of blue, bright skies ; a morn of wonder- 
ment 
So breathless that the ever-trilling lark 
Outsung itself while mounting, flight by flight, 
To where all space seem'd thirsty for its song. 
A first, faint breeze, forerunner of the winds 
That soon would follow, from the caves of pearl 
Where homed the plaintive echoes of the deep 
Came slowly forth, and fiU'd the airy aisles 
With sea-sweet fragrance. As the trees awoke 
They trembled slightly, and the whisp'ring 

leaves 
Greeted each other in the speech that is 
More delicate than music. Moveless then, 
[23] 




IDAS AND MARPESSA 



Like virgins at the hour of sacrifice, 
They stood and waited till with ruder hands 
The winds should touch them, sway them to and 

fro 
In wildest dance, and leave them suddenly 
To mourn their stripp'd and tatter'd draperies. 
And while a silence still possess'd the air 
Save for the dwindling cadence of the lark, 
To where the steps led downward Idas came 
From out the palace with his shaggy hounds. 
Marpessa follow'd with his trusted spear 
And bow and arrows ; but her dragging feet 
And smileless lips betoken'd she was sad 
This golden morning ; and had kept him there 
To hear the first sweet prattle of their babes 
Had he not seem'd so eager for the chase. 
But when she laid his weapons at his feet, 
And raised to his the question of her eyes. 
He placed his arm about her, and his touch 
Made her forget, who was so solely his. 
" Nay, fear not, wife," he said. " Ere noon is 

come 
The hounds shall bay before the welcome gates. 
And call thee forth to greet me. Thou shalt 

see 
My shoulders hid beneath the hugest skin 
That made a bear seem fearful ; but thy feet 
This very night, when o'er thy heavy lids 
[24] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



Sleep draws the velvet solace of his plumes, 

Shall tread it as thou goest to thy couch 

To dream of him who loves thee." " Ah," said 

she, 
" Who goes away is ever free of care ; 
Who stays is heavy-hearted. Thou and I 
Are one, my husband ; when thou leavest me, 
Though the blest sunshine trembles in my hair. 
My heart becomes the darksome lair of fear. 
I love thee, Idas." " And I love thee, too," 
Her husband answer'd. " I have thought of 

thee 
When, call'd in Greece's service, I have dared 
The swift, unerring dart of bitter Death. 
Thy love has kept me scathless, and thy voice 
Has whisper'd me in hours of loneliness 
Such words as gave me courage. I have lived 
Since first I loved thee; and I love thee still. 
And fain would live to win for thee and mine 
Fresh honor and more glory. When I go 
To fight for Greece, thou sayest not a word ; 
Yet now I go to bring thee " Then he 

laugh'd 
And stroked the worry from her low, cool brow. 
Then bade her note how eager were the hounds 
To prove their mettle. And she clung to him 
And look'd at him in silence. Ah! who knows 
The thoughts behind a woman's trustful eyes, 
[25] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



Or senses all she suffers? Through the years 
We take without a question all she gives, 
But never know her. Infancy and age 
Alike depend upon her; in his prime 
Man strides alone to learn his destiny ; 
He crowns himself whenever he succeeds, 
But turns to her for comfort when he fails. 
So Idas laugh'd and kiss'd her. " Smile on me," 
He said at last, his weapons in his hand ; 
" That when I venture where the woods are dark 
Thine eyes shall light me, and the memory 
Of thy sweet face may hearten me against 
What odds may wait me in the monster's cave." 
And while the eager dogs leap'd noisily. 
Or whined with noses pointed to the woods, 
She kiss'd his forehead ; and he strode away. 
The dogs beside him watchful of his eye 
And silent now as he was. And while yet 
Marpessa's hands were clasp'd against her heart. 
He pass'd within the menace of the woods. 

And while her darlings slept, two pretty babes, 
All pink and white and smiles and innocence. 
To that same pool beyond the garden's walls 
Marpessa went, unfearing. Now the woods 
Were bright with promise, for the tallest trees 
Beheld the first swift lances of the sun 
Glint in the east, and drive in front of them 
[26] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



The last doom'd line of hesitating grey. 

But still the grass, from which her sandals 

brush'd 
Uncounted dewdrops mirroring the world, 
Was cool in shadow, and the leaves were wet 
As if the fleeing Night had wept o'er them. 
And while she sped beneath the whisp'ring trees, 
From glade to glade where now the startled hare 
Look'd hurriedly upon her, and was gone, 
She thought of Idas. Was it years ago 
He woo'd and won her? Or but yestermom 
She said she loved him.'' For it seem'd her love 
Was like the light, the golden light of day, 
That grew each moment stronger; scarce she 

knew 
How much she loved him. Ah! the gentle trees 
That bent above the soil in sympathy 
Would know her grief; and so she raised to 

them 
Her pleading hands ; and though they silent 

were. 
She sensed their pity and was comforted. 
But ere she came to where the shaded pool 
Invited with its stillness, in her path 
Stood one so splendid that the sun itself 
Could make his face no brighter. Curling locks, 
That gleam'd above a forehead marble-pale, 
Caught the descending glory, but his eyes 
[27] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



Were dark with mystery, black yet terrible 
As passion is, that hungers for the thing 
Beyond the fever'd reaching of its hand. 
But though his face was flame, the form of him 
So perfect was, so chastely wonderful, 
That) awed to silence and astonishment, 
Marpessa eyed him as a moment's dream. 
Half-fearing he might vanish. Then a smile 
Caress'd his lips, a smile so luminous 
That now an added glory dower'd him 
And made him light itself — light radiant 
In, of all human forms, the form most beautiful. 
Now, seeing he had charm'd her, as the flame 
Ensnares the soft-wing'd priestess of the dark, 
He spoke. " Marpessa ! " Just the name of 

her. 
But, oh! his voice was as the voice of one 
Who deems his love for evermore removed 
Beyond the bridgeless gulfs of hopeless death, 
Beyond all winning. As the echoes died 
The silence seem'd suggestive of a woe, 
So heavily it lay upon the soul 
Of her that listen'd. And the hand of her. 
While still she faced him with untroubled eyes, 
Was slowly lifted to her drooping lips 
As if in question. But, before she spoke, 
Again Apollo cried that airy name. 
Again it echo'd till the glade was fiU'd. 
[28] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



" Marpessa ! " Oh ! the tenderness of it. 
And then he held his hand outstretch'd to her 
And look'd his longing; but as yet she thought 
She dream'd by daylight, and the thing would 

pass 
As all dreams pass, however beautiful. 
And still his beauty charm'd her, and, anon, 
The air contain'd her hesitating hand 
And heard her whisper : " Art thou Love itself, 
Or Beauty's spirit.'' Or art thou a man, 
And made of that same perishable stuff 
That waits for death to ease it of its pain.'' 
Or do I dream and think thou gleamest there. 
While naught's around me save the list'ning 

trees 
And shifting sunlight.'' If a man thou art, 
Whence comest thou.'' What hero-bearing land 
May claim thy service, and what mother's eyes 
Have joy'd above thy beauty.? " Then in tones 
That thrill'd at times the purest silences 
Of highest heaven, Apollo answer'd her: 
" Man am I not, nor subject unto death; 
But number'd am with those whose gaze serene 
Watches the world from heights of amethyst 
Where sits my father. I am he that hymns 
The song of morning, and, when even's torch 
Reddens the west, I sing the requiem 
That mourns the sun's down-going. I am he 
[29] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



To whom the Muses listen, and the stars 
Echo the songs that tremble from my lips. 
My mother was Latona." While he spoke, 
A startled cry escaped Marpessa's lips 
As, fearing now his presence, she essay'd 
To ease her eyes in darkness with her hand. 
And still was silent. " Now thou knowest me," 
The god continued, and his voice was soft 
As that of waves on sands of drowsy isles. 
" On sapphire morns of golden joyousness 
Thy lips have sung my praises ; thou hast seen 
The curling incense widen in its rise 
To circle me with fragrance. Drop thy hands 
That I may see the beauty of thine eyes, 

fair Marpessa ! " Then she look'd at him, 
Unconscious of his purpose. " Brightest god," 
She whisper'd faintly as she lean'd to him ; 

" Thou callest me Marpessa. What am I 
That thou, in accents sweeter than the wind 
On eves of pearl, should'st call me by my name.'' 

1 am but mortal, and no more to thee 

Than the doom'd flower that perishes with day." 
And then he open'd wide his gleaming arms 
And look'd at her, as he had often look'd 
On other beauties willing to be won ; 
And once again the forest heard him sigh: 
" Marpessa ! fair Marpessa ! " Then at last 
[30] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



She sensed his love, and straightway shrank 

from him 
As from a thing unclean and dangerous. 
But he continued with a swifter speech 
To tell his passion, " Ah ! thou knowest now 
Why thus I cry ' Marpessa ' ! As I gazed 
From heaven's bright heights and saw thee, in 

my heart 
Love's sudden torch was lighted. Thee I love. 
Unearthly splendors woo me when I pass 
Those ways serene ; the nymphs' white loveliness 
Awaits me where the fern nods dreamily 
Its acquiescence to the wooing wind. 
But thou art fairer than the whitest nymph 
That trembles in the moonlight. I have seen 
Thy fated beauty, and I yearn for thee 
As one in hell may hunger for the light." 
But closer now she drew her purple robe 
Across her breast. " Thou lovest hopelessly, 

flame-bright god," she said. " My love is his 
Who won me from my father, who has spun 
His golden dreams about me till to him 

1 seem as lovely as the brightest star. 
Two babes remind us of our mating time, 
Of days when yet we whisper'd each to each 
The pretty nothings that to lovers are 
More dear than all the wisdom of the years. 
And now that we are cooler, side by side 

[31] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



We go our way, believing in the gods 
And one another, fearless of the end." 
But now Apollo near'd her. " Thee and thine 
One end awaits, Marpessa. Night by night 
The silent boatman bears to silent shores 
The voiceless ghosts of lovers such as ye. 
My loves become immortal. Time nor Change 
Can touch those favor'd of the deathless gods. 
If thou wilt love me thou shalt dwell with me- 
In everlasting splendor, and be praised 
By men yet formless in the future's womb." 
But now Marpessa laugh'd. " Where Idas goes, 
My little ones must follow," she replied. 
" Shall I forsake them in that bitter place, 
And leave them lonely? Could a poet's song 
Make shame less shameful.'' Oh! thou knowest 

not, 
Bright god of morning, of the heart that is 
A wife's and mother's. Could I stay with thee 
And hear thee singing while mine own were 

crouch'd 
In misty hell? And would thy kisses make 
My sorrow for their desolation less? 
Supreme art thou and very beautiful ; 
But though thy lips have quiver'd with the song 
That thrills the holy cedars, in thy heart 
Abides no love, nor aught of tenderness 
If thus thou judgest women." And again 
[32] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



She laugh'd to think how Idas worship'd her, 
And how she loved him. But, while yet she 

laugh'd, 
Apollo seized her. " Thou art mine," he cried, 
And press'd his burning lips upon her own. 
" Thy constancy shall vanish as the dew 
Forsakes its love, the pallid asphodel, 
When sunbeams woo it. When I sing to thee 
Thy pulse shall quicken; when my heart shall 

beat 
Above thine own, thine eyes shall read in mine 
Such dreams as force forgetfulness of all 
Thy former dreamings. Thou shalt love me 

yet. 
Thy hand shall yet caress me, and thy lips 
Shall cling to mine until all space shall seem 
Too tiny for our swooning." And while yet 
The forest echo'd with her bitter cry, 
And all grew dark around her, in his arms 
Apollo bore his burden from the glade. 

* 

^IS listless dogs behind him, through the 
woods 
Strode Idas, singing. In a gloomy spot, 
Where never satyr sprawl'd beneath the trees 
Or teasing fauns dismay'd the restive deer, 
[33] 




IDAS AND MARPESSA 



The lip-raised bear had met him. Silently 
They faced each other, and the waiting dogs 
Whined to attack their ancient enemy. 
Then from his bow the hunter shot a shaft 
That whizz'd its song of death, and in the throat 
Of it, the hunted, pitilessly lodged. 
And while the brown brute lunged to challenge 

them. 
The dogs sprang forward; but the bear was 

quick, 
And smote with thick and danger-dealing paws 
Its rash tormentors. One as suddenly 
Yelp'd and was dead; and then a second shaft, 
By Idas sped from his complaining bow, 
Smote the huge fury in its shaggy breast. 
And now it gave no heed to snapping jaws. 
But, dripping blood from not ignoble wounds, 
O'erlook'd the baser things and sought the man. 
Its equal in the forest. With a roar 
That cow'd the dogs, the bear, uprear'd and 

straight. 
Confronted Idas. But the spear was poised, 
The spear long envied of the Argonauts, 
And, loosed, it travell'd like a thunderbolt 
And smote the bear and drove him back again. 
Then through the vast and bloody cavity 
Pale Death rush'd in and chill'd its mighty 

heart, 

[34] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



And closed its angry eyes against the woods. 
And ere the hearten'd dogs could worry it 
The noble beast crash'd down, and was as still 
As is the fell'd tree, slaughter'd in its prime. 

But when he reach'd his palace, and had cast 
His shoulder's burden on the gleaming stairs, 
Marpessa did not greet him. Through the halls 
He strode and call'd her, but his children's cries 
Apprised him she was absent. Then of them 
That eyed him mutely, faithful servitors 
Still proud to serve, he ask'd in curtest speech 
If one had seen her. But they still were dumb 
And shook their heads while looking on the 

ground. 
And though they search'd the palace, cried her 

name 
And sought the gardens over, not a sign 
Of lost Marpessa brought the seekers joy. 
But when, at fault, they tum'd to pray the 

gods 
Reveal their secret ; and with troubled eyes 
Their master follow'd them, a blind old hound 
Much favor'd of Marpessa bay'd the woods ; 
And ever sniffing as she cross'd the grass 
Went slowly forward, baying as she went. 
Then Idas knew; and shouting to the slaves 
To guard his children as they would their lives, 
[35] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



He grasp'd his spear and follow'd. Yard by 

yard 
The hound went on, while Idas spoke to her, 
Impatient, yet all-grateful for her aid. 
And on and on, beneath the self-same pines 
That saw on other days such happenings 
As he might find delight in ; through such glades 
Where Dian heard her moon-enamor'd maids 
Relate the day's adventures ; how the deer 
Escaped their arrows, or a drowsy herd 
Gazed at their limbs with unbelieving eyes 
And fell asleep again. But Idas' thoughts 
Were fix'd on his Marpessa, and his gaze 
Was strain'd upon the distance. Bush and tree 
Seem'd fraught with menace to the one he loved, 
And therefore hateful; so he hurried on 
Behind the hound, and cheer'd her with his 

voice. 
And once she whined, and tum'd, then tum'd 

again 
And bay'd the louder; for her scent was keen 
Although her eyes were useless. Overhead 
The sun had cross'd the midline of the sky. 
And slanting beams now fill'd the drowsy woods 
With afternoon's still glory ; bush and tree 
Alike seem'd golden, and a golden sheen 
Fell on the uptum'd faces of the flowers. 
But little now reck'd Idas of the hour, 

[36] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



And little of its beauty. Ah ! what sight 
Might blind his eyes when once the baying 

ceased 
That now seem'd Hope's own music? Had the 

pool 
Forever closed above her? Or would she, 
With lilies far less white and delicate, 
Stare from its edge with fix'd, unseeing eyes 
Upon the blue above them? Then he thought 
Of how the bear had almost conquer'd him, 
And saw her bruised and mangled in the fern. 
But on and on the blind hound, baying, went 
With Idas close behind her. Nearing now 
The shadow'd pool, his heart grew heavier; 
But while he steel'd himself to learn the fate 
Of all he loved and cherish'd, once again 
The hound stood still and sniff'd uneasily 
The air about her. Then she whined and slunk 
To where her master waited, glooming now, 
His eyes so useless. Then again she sniff'd 
The air itself, unmindful of the grass, 
And seem'd at fault ; but ever from the pool 
Would turn her head. And Idas petted her ; 
But though she knew his meaning, on the grass 
She lay and whined with fine, uplifted head, 
And would not move. Then Idas left her there 
To seek behind the bushes, finding naught, 

[37] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



And so came back, and watch'd her. Now he 

knew 
That she was borne from that well-trodden path 
That cleft the forest to the shelter'd pool 
By some grim enemy, or beast or man; 
And while his hands were eager to bequeath 
Red death on aught that held her, in his heart 
Her face alone was imaged, only hers. 
But while he wonder'd at the hound's distress, 
And bade her seek and find again the scent. 
There came a first, faint puff of perfumed wind 
From off the mountains, and the hound leap'd 

up 
Alert and silent ; then she sniff'd again 
And ever grew more eager. And at last. 
When sure she seem'd of something, something 

hid 
From Idas' understanding, through the woods 
Her full-mouth'd baying boom'd. Then on 

again. 
With head erect as if her eyes could see. 
The faithful brute proceeded ; ever on 
Now whining and now baying. And behind 
Strode eager Idas, firm-lipp'd, resolute. 
And hard his hand embraced his trusted spear. 

The sun was setting ere he came on them. 
While yet afar Marpessa heard the hound, 
[38] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



And cried to Idas, knowing he was near. 
And he had leap'd to clasp her, calling her 
In tones that voiced his anguish, asking not 
Why thus he found her with the god of song ; 
But scorning him and hating. But the god 
Still kept them parted, and had taunted him 
With mocking words, the while confronting him. 
" Fly hence while yet thou may'st," he cried to. 

him. "4 

" Thy wife is mine. Death holds his shroud 

o'er thee; 
But she has turn'd her glances to the heights 
Where I abide in splendor. Mine she is ; 
And me she loves for my immortal song 
And all that makes me god-like." Hearing him 
It seem'd to Idas that the gods had rock'd 
The petty world, and that along with it 
He totter'd to destruction. In his ears, 
As booming seas may thunder in a cave, 
A roaring menace sounded, and he clutch'd 
The air about him wildly, giddily. 
And could not speak ; could only clutch the air, 
And stare at her whose name he could not say 
Despite his heart's deep longing. But the voice 
Of pale Marpessa cried across the dusk: 
" I love thee, Idas ! In its constancy 
My heart so steep'd is that it laughs at death. 
The wolf will better rear our little ones 
[39] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



Than this bright Splendor who has threaten'd 

us; 
And, rather than be his, and dwell in light, 
I'd feel once more thy lips upon mine eyes, 
Hear once thy voice assure me of thy love, 
And, with thine arm about me, seek the mists." 
And though he could not answer her as yet, 
He look'd his yearning, stunn'd and impotent 
To cry his grief, but longing to unite 
His iron hands around the marble throat 
Of him who ever eyed him with disdain. 
And still Apollo mock'd him : " She shall sit 
With me in glory, and shall lean to me 
When thou art long forgotten. At her feet 
I heap my gifts of immortality 
And love eternal. Go, while I am kind; 
Thy wife my love is. If I stare at thee 
Thy days are ended." And again she cried, 
As one who sees her loved one perishing: 
" I love thee, Idas, who art all to me ; " 
And fain had touch'd him with her trembling 

hand, 
But could not. And while yet she gazed at 

him 
With love and anguish in the eyes so dear, 
He found his speech and thunder'd : " God thou 

art. 
But foul seducer also. In the woods 
[40] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



Are they that hate thee — Isse, Chione, 

And Zephyrus, whom Hyacinthus scorn'd. 

Despite thy splendor, and thy gift of song, 

Loathsome thou art to things of purity, 

Defiler and vain boaster. In the skies 

Thy station is, to serve the Thunderer, 

Lest, anger'd, he chastise thee. Sweet thy 

hymns 
In ears that still are strangers to the songs 
Of earth's dear birds. The while thou gleamest 

there 
Thou art a menace, and the foe of all 
That makes our short-year'd life seem bearable. 
I hate thee, and would rid the woods of thee. 
Now aid thou me, great Zeus, a simple man, 
Yet righteous in my anger and my love. 
Guide thou my spear, and tip its point with 

death 
That I may slay this robber, win mine own, 
And bless thee for thy succour." Swiftly then 
He hurl'd the dart, but slipp'd and saw it pierce 
An oak behind Apollo. And the god, 
Now bright with anger, tore the quiv'ring shaft 
From out the tree and posed to hurtle it 
Against defenceless Idas. Even now 
The mists were heavy in Marpessa's eyes. 
And she was praying for the man she loved, 
[41] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



When lo ! the shades were scatter'd. In their 

midst 
Stood one of grave, majestic countenance, 
As golden as Apollo, but serene 
And conscious of his power. Then to the earth 
The spear was lower'd, and Marpessa's hand 
Was raised in supplication. But the eyes 
Of him that stood there were the eyes of one 
Who awed all men to silence, and her words 
Remain'd unutter'd in her anguish'd breast. 
Then, turning first to where Apollo gleam'd. 
He eyed him gravely. " Is dissension sweet," 
He ask'd, and pointed to the lower'd spear, 
" That thus ye fight when from the western skies 
My glory is departing? From the soil 
Sweet incense rises, and the trees are still'd 
In solemn adoration. Even now 
The stars prepare to smile upon the world. 
And all is hush'd. The spear is in thy hand ; 
Thy brow is anger'd. I await thy words." 
And then Apollo storm'd. " The maid is mine, 
I love her. She would share " But Idas 

now 
Strode hotly forward. " O great Zeus," he 

cried, 
" The bright god lies ! This woman is my wife, 
My loved Marpessa. We are wed, are one. 
Thy praise we sing together, and our babes 
[42] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



Await her in their cradle. She is mine." 
And then the wroth Apollo frown'd at him : 
" If I but speak thou fallest at my feet, 
And hell shall open to receive thy ghost. 
Who, then, art thou to look me in the eyes 
And say: 'Thou liest'.'' I can harass thee 
And make thy days a torment. Thou shalt 

leam 
My awful vengeance; thou shalt cry to me 
As Jason cried when hurried to his death." 
But Idas answer'd : " Nay, I fear thee not. 
A man I am and I can die but once. 
Death has for me no terrors. Could I hold 
Thy gleaming hair, I'd stand erect in hell 
And deem my life well ended but to shout: 
' Behold Apollo, who would harm my wife ! ' " 
And then again Apollo raised his spear, 
But Zeus commanded and again it dropp'd. 
And then he turn'd to where Marpessa stood, 
All pale and trembling. " It shall rest with 

thee 
To choose thy lover," said the grave-eyed god. 
" But ponder well before thou utterest 
Thy heart's desire. Beneath these gentle trees 
A hero claims thee, and a gleaming god. 
To each thou art a treasure, but to one 
Thyself thou givest. It shall rest with thee 
To choose thy destiny — to dwell on high 
[43] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



Or on the earth that is a part of thee. 
Who loves Apollo must be sometimes sad. 
The song that trembles on his crimson lips 
Is heard by many and of many loved. 
The woods are his, the mountains. Where he 

goes 
All hearts adore him, but he passes on 
To other conquests and to other loves. 
Apollo says he loves thee. If with him 
Thou goest hence, thou shalt immortal be; 
Shalt watch the birth of worlds, the vanishing 
Of all that now is bright and wonderful. 
Beside me thou shalt sit when life is done. 
The stars shall be thy children, and the winds 
Shall sing thy praises ere the dusk descends. 
And if thy choice be Idas, thou shalt know 
The even bliss of mortals and their griefs. 
The dawn shall wake thee, and the night shall 

bring 
Thy head unto its pillow where lies his 
Who shares with thee thy sorrow and thy joy. 
Thy babes will love thee, but shall some day go 
Beyond the silent longing of thine eyes, 
Beyond thy hand's caresses. Even he. 
Whose hair turns whiter while thou kissest it, 
Must go at last; and thou must follow him. 
And bid farewell to light and all that made 
Thy little day seem perfect. Being gone 
[44] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



Thou soon shalt be forgotten. Few are they 
Whose names are number'd with the names of 

stars ; 
Thy little pleasure must be had to-day. 
For man is dust. His dreams are of the sky; 
But all the toys that bring him happiness 
Lie strewn between his cradle and his grave." 
And while he spoke, Marpessa forward lean'd 
As if to choose ; but with commanding eyes 
The grave god held her while he spoke again. 
" Apollo's hand would raise thee to the heights ; 
But Sorrow's face in airy solitudes 
Is not unknown, for she is everywhere 
Where hearts may beat. She, too, will follow 

thee 
If thou with Idas goest. At her knees 
Ye both must kneel when that dark hour comes 
That comes alike to those whom Love makes one 
And those whom Love ne'er blesses. Choose 

thou now." 
And while Apollo eyed her haughtily, 
Too sure of conquest, Idas lean'd to her 
With outstretch'd arms, still hungry for her 

love 
And fearful she might leave him. But his doubt 
Was vain and idle, as a man's doubt is — 
Who learns what love is only when 't is lost ; 
For, laughing now, Marpessa ran to him, 
[45] 



IDAS AND MARPESSA 



Heedless of bright Apollo or of Zeus, 
And with her arms close-twined about his neck 
Cried : " Idas ! O my Idas ! " Thus they gazed 
In eyes where tears were welling; thus they 

stood 
To all oblivious save their happy selves, 
And said no word, but gazed, and gazed again. 
And when at last they turn'd, it was to find 
The gods had vanish'd and themselves alone. 
Alone they stood amid the leafy peace. 
Beneath the skies where now gleam'd wondrously 
The blessed star of even ; in their hearts 
The love that cares not what the future holds. 
Nor ever dreams of death; and at their feet 
The blind old hound, awaiting their caress. 



[46] 



MAH 26 1912 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

llllilllliliillilii 

018 393 929 4 




